


treat me nicely

by flannypack



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Bottom Han Jisung | Han, Canon Compliant, Choking, Edgeplay, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, I GUESS LOL they're idols in this yah, Lee Minho | Lee Know-centric, M/M, Not Beta Read, One-Sided Relationship, Sweet Seo Changbin, Top Lee Minho | Lee Know, both jisung and felix are uhh a little hesitant, briefly tho, lee minho is a psychopath?????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26518972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flannypack/pseuds/flannypack
Summary: “Jisungie,” Minho leaned down, placing his free hand by Jisung’s head to keep balanced, “you’re so fucking beautiful, God, it hurts.” His breath fanned out warm against Jisung’s burning skin as he turned his nose into the side of Jisung’s cheek.So… Why was Minho thinking about Felix?-Minho wants Felix while he makes love to Jisung.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Lee Felix/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 5
Kudos: 122





	treat me nicely

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this all in one night i have a fixation on this idea that minho has a legitimate antisocial personality disorder/psychopathy and this is kind of how he thinks about things and relationships idk i may write something more worthy of that concept in the future idk idk 
> 
> comments & kudos r appreciated  
> ig @namjoobilee

Felix liked to be treated nicely. 

At least, that’s the best that Minho could gather, from Felix himself, and from everybody else that ever touched him.

And, it wasn’t that big of a deal most of the time, but Minho just wasn’t a nice person. 

He flexed his fingers and hummed with a sigh, squeezing along the edges of Jisung’s gorgeous, bared throat, feeling his adam’s apple tremble with a belabored swallow against his palm. The boy’s gold skin glittered a little with a thin sheen of sweat when it caught the light of the overhead fluorescents of the dorm room, and even sparkled when Jisung gasped or jerked particularly hard up into his own fist. 

“Feel that pressure in your head, Ji? You feel it in your cock, too, right?” Minho supplied. He was unsurprised by the fervent, desperate nodding Jisung did, his big eyes opening briefly to look up at Minho before helplessly letting them close again. Satisfaction roiled hot and slow in Minho’s gut when he looked down and watched Jisung fisting over himself even faster. 

Now, _this._ _This_ is what Minho liked. 

Jisung was a little bitch in every way Felix was more like a feather. Lovely boy, Jisung was, and always had been, but for as long as Minho had ever known him, he was always balancing on the precipice of completely unable to self-support. Always bordering Jisung’s well-timed compulsions to be funny and to entertain every person that he met was a whole slew of these nervous, fragile insecurities he had, that manically teetered on the tip of a pin. 

If a joke of his didn’t land it was forgettable, but Jisung thought about it for the rest of the day.

 _“Wasn’t it funny? Well, I guess not._ ”

He only opened his mouth about it in passing: off-camera, in secret—but it was like the air around him itself got a little heavier, and his shoulders would start to sag. He’d fidget with his earrings and face and fingers, and couldn’t seem to do anything else besides distractedly mumble things in response until he finally thought of another joke that made up for the last. 

More honestly, was that this was all only a hairline fracture in Jisung’s otherwise unassuming facade. Nobody wanted to peg Jisung as insecure, not Han Jisung, easily the most energetic and untethered persona out of a whole group of eight. You’d only catch a thing like that if you were deliberately trying to find it. 

But Minho was always trying to find something. In his defense, he couldn’t help it. Minho did it to everyone. 

He liked what he found in Jisung a lot.

Jisung needed to feel validated so badly, the first time Minho sucked his dick Jisung came in his mouth with an unsure, watery expression, and timidly asked if _Minho_ had been satisfied. 

(Because Minho caught him jerking off in the bathroom, and when he asked if Jisung wanted him to suck him off and Jisung said no, Minho clicked his tongue and pouted his lip a little, and apologized with his sincerest voice. Before he could leave, Jisung yanked Minho back inside so urgently it almost hurt.) 

Minho knew he didn’t have to be so warm at first. Jisung would’ve more willingly set himself on fire than risk that highly unlikely scenario where he gets ostracized for not being the thing he needed to be when he thought he needed to be it—but Minho didn’t want a ton of needless heartbreak before he got the chance to actually make something out of his discovery. 

So it was gentle, but pointed manipulation. “ _Hyungie just wants to help_ _!_ ”, and, “ _you think hyung doesn’t know what he’s talking about_ _?_ ”, and plenty of pouting lips. Stuff like that.

For a while Minho couldn’t tell if Jisung particularly liked the things he was coaxed into. Maybe it was that he was unsure how he felt about another man touching him, maybe he was more afraid to get caught—which did all make sense considering the certifiably bad circumstances. They were idols, they had an image to keep up, and group members who had _their_ images to keep up. Yadda yadda. 

But in a hilarious stroke of irony, when Minho came on to Jisung after he held him back in the practice room and they were left all alone, Jisung said, albeit off-handedly, that as long as he never made Minho unhappy, Jisung didn’t mind the risk. 

_Absolutely rich_ , Minho immediately thought. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, all the blood from Jisung’s brain in his cock instead of his head, as Minho pumped him in one hand while Jisung clung onto Minho’s shoulders for dear life, because no job like being an idol was actually worth risking for something as stupid as gay sex. Not on _purpose_. 

Minho would take it, however, because it felt like his whole operation had just gotten green-lit from all sides. 

He kissed Jisung on the mouth for the first time while he was cumming, then laughed a little as he wiped his hand off on the inside of his jacket, and told Jisung he shouldn’t say things so extreme. 

All of that leading to tonight. Minho had locked himself and Jisung in their dorm room and offered to practice some more choking and edging, a recent endeavor of Minho’s after selling Jisung on it with little more than a spot of uncommitted resistance in response. Jisung had long since stumbled from only wanting to please Minho, to genuinely trusting Minho’s judgement, and, to be fair, it’d been a long time since those flashes of discomfort or anxiety appeared across Jisung’s expression when Minho brought up something new he thought they should try together.

Slotted in between Jisung’s legs as he desperately jerked his hips up in time with his strokes, cheeks and forehead red with the pressure of his arteries being steadily squeezed and his orgasm being staved off, Minho had a hard time not adoring him. Every inch of him. Obedient, desperate, dependent, and Jisung didn’t think he was any of these things. He thought he was giving, and scrupulous, and Minho liked it that way. 

“Jisungie,” Minho leaned down, placing his free hand by Jisung’s head to keep balanced, “you’re so fucking beautiful, God, it hurts.” His breath fanned out warm against Jisung’s burning skin as he turned his nose into the side of Jisung’s cheek. 

So… why was Minho thinking about Felix? 

Jisung whimpered loudly, wetly, until his choked off breaths of air turned into moans. He wrapped the hand that wasn’t on his dick around the back of Minho’s neck, holding his hyung in place to help give himself strength when he stopped fucking his own hand and pinched the base of his cock. 

“Hyung, h-hyungie,” he sobbed, still pathetically twitching his hips upwards, his body reflexively chasing after the rush of a climax that couldn’t come soon enough. His thighs hooked over Minho’s hips squeezed together, crushing Minho in between. 

“Hyungie, I wanna cum, _please_ —” 

Maybe Felix wasn’t necessarily smarter than Jisung more than he was simply a much more difficult egg to crack. Felix was endlessly understanding, and gentle. Wanted to understand, wanted to be kind. But didn’t need to be. Conversely, Jisung’s boundaries, or lack thereof, didn’t come as any surprise to Minho, back when he first had that heartbreaking look of alarm and Minho talked him down enough to make it go away. 

Minho grunted and had to pry Jisung’s hand from the back of his neck, mumbling, “Okay, baby, you did well,” before he could sit all the way up again and look once more at his work.

Jisung was nearly wheezing, each wheeze preceded with a high, pained moan. His sclera was a bit bloodshot and his eyelashes were wet—from tears, or from Minho’s hand on his neck, Minho couldn’t tell. Some of his hair was stuck in jagged black clumps along his sweaty forehead, the rest of it messily fanning out over the top of his pillow. Minho looked down at Jisung’s cock.

Angry, irritated red from the near hour of abuse. 

Felix wasn’t as unsure in the beginning as Jisung had been about Minho’s charged affection. Minho was generally affectionate, and so was Felix, and Felix was bisexual, while Jisung was not. 

Things escalated smoothly, Minho remembered. Felix had been so cute. 

They’d been cuddling on Felix’s bed, watching whatever Felix wanted on his phone. Felix was curled into Minho’s side, arms around his waist, a leg thrown over Minho’s lap. It was so easy to giggle innocuously and slide his fingers into Felix’s hair, and angle his head downwards just enough to wait for Felix to look up into his eyes.

His irises were huge. So endlessly brown.

Minho couldn’t think of a time where he’d ever been more honest in his life when he whispered, “ _I could kiss you_.”

And Felix went a brilliant red in his hand.

And he’d looked so timidly excited, his eyes had gone wide.

And he whispered, “ _You can_ ”, as if he’d been meaning to say that to one of his members his whole life. As if the thought was constantly ready to burst from the seams of his heart if only it hadn’t been so strange.

And Minho pulled him up and kissed him.

And God, he knew he wanted him. 

Minho released Jisung’s throat and watched as the sudden rush of blood made Jisung gasp, his hand immediately going to yank desperately on his brown cock. It was like he couldn’t possibly get enough friction, helplessly bulleting his hand up and down his shaft as his moans began to deepen. Minho sat back on his heels and watched the pitiful show, feeling himself slowly become too full on the memory of Felix to leave any room for Jisung. 

“Cum, baby, cum all over the bed,” Minho crooned, his voice sweet. 

“Cum all over the bed.” 

Jisung nodded his head, finally hit full-force by his climax, all at once. A yell tore out of him and he quickly pressed at his shaft so he could angle his line of cum at the underside of the top bunk. His spine was bowing and taught, and the entire long pillar of his neck was exposed as his head was thrown back. His hips twitched as he came, and his jaw had gone slack. 

Felix had let Minho deepen the kiss, with a sweet, soft sigh. The sound ran across Minho’s skin and left a shiver in its wake, despite how warmly his blood had begun to thrum. It’d even made Minho’s toes begun to curl in anticipation. Minho didn’t have to work even half as hard for this as he had for Jisung, he thought. Maybe he’d even get to see Felix’s hard dick in the same night—maybe Felix even wanted him to. Maybe he wouldn’t mind. 

Minho didn't want to blame himself for things going sour with Felix that night, but he supposed, ultimately, it had been his fault. But, for Christ’s sake, he’d only had context clues to work off of, and all he could make of anything in that moment was that Felix liked boys, Felix was in his underwear, Felix wanted to kiss. Felix was pretty, Felix was soft, what was his cock going to look like? Would Felix’s cock be just as cute as him?

Minho had reached around, excited, hungry, behind Felix’s ass, and he supposed in a lapse of judgement, he grabbed two big handfuls of it and squeezed. Not teasingly, not flirtatiously. He groped like an animal, and Felix shoved him away. 

“Minho—!” Minho remembers Felix saying. No hesitation in his gorgeous brown eyes, no regret on his plump, fluffy lips. His eyebrows were furrowed, hard, maybe a touch confused, but he was definitively offended. 

Felix was _not_ Jisung. 

And Jisung was not Felix. 

Jisung didn’t get any cum on Minho, which would’ve been fine, but Minho was glad there wasn’t anything else to clean. He let out a sigh, and smiled for Jisung when his eyes heavily blinked back open and his body finally began to loosen and settle. He heaved out a big sigh too, reminding Minho of a sleepy baby that was ready for a nap. 

Minho unfolded his legs from underneath himself, carefully extracting Jisung’s own heavy legs from around his waist in the process. He decided to scoot himself up next to Jisung’s head and against the pillow, using a feather-light touch to push Jisung’s bangs from off his forehead and assess the mess of semen. A lot of it was collected in Jisung’s hand and slathered all over his softening dick—he couldn’t always help getting his fingers in the way—and the rest of it was pooling in the valleys of his toned stomach, in his pubes, and undoubtedly somewhere on the bottom of the mattress overhead. 

Minho remembered what Changbin told him the night after his failure with Felix, and the way Felix looked when he was upset, at the same time. 

Confused, and peering over the top edge of his laptop, Changbin had looked like he was very tempted to ask what could’ve possibly made Minho come to him with such a peculiar question as, “ _Does Felix like to roughhouse?_ ”. Minho only let Changbin speculate for so long before he’d added, “ _I was playing with him, and… I guess I got a little too rough._ ” along with a sheepish smile that he already knew would be convincing enough. 

Changbin sipped at his coffee. 

“ _He only ever comes to me to cuddle, and I’m fairly certain the same is true about everyone else, if they’ll let him. He’s sweet, you know that_.” 

Changbin paused to smile fondly and gesticulate some with his hand. 

“ _He never play-fights if he doesn’t have to. I don’t think he likes it. I mean, I don’t think he likes being rough_.” 

Minho considered what he might’ve ruined that night, and if it’d actually been as much of a loss as he initially felt like it was. And yet, something about that pattern of thinking just didn’t sit quite right.

Felix had been so goddamn close, Minho could almost taste his balls, and Minho knew, without a doubt, Felix would’ve tasted just as good as he looked. Something thrashed, alive and anxious under Minho’s skin. 

“ _He likes to be treated_ nicely.” 

Changbin’s tone had been resolute. 

“ _I wouldn’t worry too much about it, if you think he’s upset. Just apologize to him and I’m sure it’s all water under the bridge._ ” 

Minho chuckled and nodded his head. Tried relaxing back into his chair with his arms folded as he looked off at nothing in particular and thought about Felix, and Jisung. 

He wanted both of them. 

Maybe his eyes were bigger than his stomach, but it could’ve been Felix instead of Jisung laying next to him in bed. Minho could see it behind his eyelids, vividly. Felix’s neck under his hand, gorgeous, almond eyes wet and and wild and begging to cum at Minho’s command. All his, for Minho, bending, and breaking. Sweet, tasty, honey bread Felix. 

None of that included ever being nice. 

Minho didn’t want to be nice.


End file.
